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THE BOYS VERSE!! ​​​​​​​Kyle Lance ( Oc )  Rudyard Ramone ( Oc )  ​​​​​​​THE ARROWVERSE!! Harry/Nash/Hr ( multimuse account )  ​​​​​​​Eobard thawne ( Canon character. ) Oliver Queen ( Canon character ) SUPERNATURAL Ozmik ( Hellhound Oc ) Lancelot ( werewolf oc ) SHERLOCK / KINGSMAN Eggsy Unwin ( Cannon/crossover ) Severin Moran ( Canon/Crossover ) DISNEY /  PIXAR Buzzlightyear ( canon muse )​​​​​​​

If you want a shoutout or for me to remember your birthday, write down your birthday here. It is not my fault if I forget.. where you have a place to let me know in advance XD

It was coming. The White Walkers and the army they brought with them. The Army of the Dead. Jon had warned everyone about it in Winterfell and they were all preparing for it. The men were getting all the weapons ready while the women had been getting all the children together. The plan from what Isabella knew was to gather into the crypts of Winterfell. However, Isabella was not fond of confined spaces. The thought of being underground was overwhelming for her, but she knew that was the only way her and her daughter would be safe. Loras would be there as well since he was not up to par to fight in the battle. The two of them traveled from Dragonstone to Winterfell with Daenerys Targaryen, and since they had been there Isabella saw Lord Baelish and his execution. Poetic Justice she thought of it.    The light was slowly diminishing as she watched them below. It was drawing closer and closer as she looked out at the treeline. Isabella stood there on the bridge as she overlooked the men below getting everything ready. Everything was being put into place on the field as she watched from above. So many thoughts were running wild in her mind as she stood there. The safety of her daughter and herself. Eleanor was with the wet nurse and the other children getting ready to go into the crypts.  She could hear the sound of footsteps behind her as she sighed. “I thought I would find you here.” Her voice was soft as she turned her head to the side and saw the redhead appearing beside her. Sansa and her formed a close friendship in King’s Landing, and since the attack by Baelish, the two were closer than ever. “The thought of being in the crypts soon is not sitting easy with me.” Isabella confessed as she sighed. Her hands wrapped around the wooden posts that she had been leaning against. “I know, it is not with me either. But Isabella, we will be safe there. Your daughter and the other children are being taken there now.” Sansa said softly, turning to face her friend. “I do hope you are right about this.” Isabella said, turning to her side to face Sansa.    The soft light from the candles along the stone walls seemed ominous to her. As if she were walking to her own funeral. Isabella saw Eleanor over in a corner with some of the other children as their minds were being occupied by a children's story that was being told to them. Looking around, she could feel the heavy weight on her chest as she felt as if everything around her was beginning to close in on her. Her vision was getting blurry and black around the corners as if she was focused on something. Walking over to where Sansa was, Isabella sat down as she saw Eleanor coming over to her. “Are you okay?” Sansa asked softly as Isabella nodded, but lied. Eleanor sat down with her in her lap and cuddled up to her. It was going to be a long night, but she had to find something to entertain her thoughts if she wanted to stay sane during this battle.   

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From my vanity, surrounded by pink and floral excess that felt more oppressive than comforting, his presence was both an intrusion and a solace. The room, a shrine to a version of Betty that everyone else celebrated, suddenly felt alien with him peering in.His gaze was weighty, brimming with concern that seemed to pierce through the glass, reaching out to the part of me that's been concealed beneath layers of cheer and charm. The Betty that he perceived wasn't the girl with the high ponytail and the flawless smile but the one grappling with shadows that threatened to spill over into the daylight."Why now?" I pondered, pressing my fingertips against the cool glass, leaving a trace of my breath. The memory of this morning's breakfast loomed over me, where words were weapons and glances were shields. His sudden appearance was reckless, yet here he was, silently vowing not to let me face my battles alone.My mother's sharp words echoed earlier, warning me of the dangers of vulnerability and letting someone see the cracks. But as I met his eyes through the window, those warnings crumbled. It was clear he saw beyond the facade, recognizing the grief that I wore like an ill-fitting garment.The gentle tap on the glass snapped me out of my racing thoughts, the kind that only seemed to spiral deeper into darkness as I contemplated Polly's plight. As I turned to the window, a slight smile broke through the turmoil at the sight of him. It was him, always him, who managed to bring a sense of normalcy—or perhaps bearable chaos—to my life. "Hey there, Juliet," he greeted, a playful lightness in his voice that belied the gravity of everything we faced.I moved quickly, almost too eagerly, to slide the window open, welcoming the escape from my own suffocating thoughts. "Nurse off duty?" he joked, stepping awkwardly onto the ledge, his attempt at ease almost endearing. I couldn’t help but smile back despite the ache in my chest when I thought of Polly, trapped and alone.“Haven’t gone full Yellow Wallpaper on me yet, have you?” His words, though teasing, touched a nerve. The reference to descent into madness wasn’t too far off from how I felt these days, haunted by what I’d seen at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy.“No, not yet,” I responded, my voice lighter than I felt. "But give it time; the walls in here are starting to close in." I stepped aside, giving him room to make his way fully into the room clumsily. His presence, as always, seemed to fill the space with a different energy, one that pushed back against the pressing gloom.I paced back and forth, my thoughts racing as fast as my footsteps. "They're crazy," I muttered, the words like a broken record in my mind. My parents, Polly, this whole twisted situation—it was all spiraling out of control. The more I thought about Polly locked away, the more I felt the walls of sanity crumbling around me."No, but what if Polly is, too?" The question escaped my lips before I could rein it in. My shoulders hunched up to my ears, a physical manifestation of my anxiety. The memory of Polly's haunted eyes and the desperation in her voice flooded back, fueling my fears. "The way she was talking to me, the way she looked at me..." It was all too much."And now, all I can think is, 'maybe I'm crazy like they are.'" The words tasted bitter; the idea that I could inherit that same madness was terrifying. I continued to pace, feeling trapped in an endless loop of worry and dread. As I turned to face him, he met my stance, his hand comforting on my shoulder. "Hey!" His voice broke through my panic, a solid, grounding force in the chaos of my thoughts. I rolled my eyes, a reflex to push away the concern, but deep down, I was grateful for his presence."We're all crazy." His eyes locked onto mine, his resolve clear. The simplicity of his statement was strangely comforting. He hated to see me like this, and I hated feeling so powerless.He sighed and chuckled lightly, trying to lift the mood. "We're not our parents, Betty." His words were a lifeline, a reminder of a truth I clung to desperately. "Thank God, or I'd be an alcoholic Southside Serpent, and you would be a lying sociopath. We're not our families." His attempt to lighten the atmosphere didn't go unnoticed, and despite everything, a small smile tugged at my lips.I felt the tension in my body begin to ease as he spoke. It was true—we weren't destined to become our parents. We had the power to choose differently, to forge our own paths. As he continued to speak,The moment stretched between us, thick with unsaid words and raw emotions. I watched him, my heart thumping irregularly as he struggled to find his words. His eyes darted between mine, a mix of hesitation and something deeper, something perhaps even he couldn't name."What?" I asked again, my curiosity piqued by his nervous energy. The slight arch of my brow was instinctual, accompanied by a slight smile that I hoped would ease his tension. It was a smile that had disarmed many, but now, it was a shield, protecting both my heart and his.The way he looked at me, so intensely yet so vulnerably, charged the air around us. His gaze had a gravity that pulled at something deep within me—a longing for connection and understanding that went beyond the usual confines of teenage angst and family dramas."Also..." he started again, his voice trailing off as if catching on a snag of doubt. My smile faltered slightly, replaced by a breath of anticipation. What was he trying to say? What was he so afraid to express?At that moment, I realized how much we indeed mirrored each other. Here he was, struggling to vocalize his thoughts and his fears, just as I often battled with my own. We were two sides of the same coin—wrestling with our identities, our histories, and the thin line between love and pain that our families had so carelessly drawn.His hesitance made him all the more endearing, all the more real. It shattered any remnants of the illusion that we were different because of where we came from—the pristine facade of the Coopers versus the raw, unfiltered life of the Southside. We were both damaged in our ways, both trying to navigate a world that seemed set against us from the start.Deep down in that space, I felt a profound sense that she knew what it was, filled with his nervous energy and my anxious heart. It didn't matter what he said next; the fact that he was here, that he was trying—that was enough to bridge any gap between us. His presence, his effort to connect despite the chaos that swirled around us, was a balm to the scars we both carried.The warmth of his hands on my neck, the gentle pressure of his thumbs against my cheeks, pulled me into a reality I had only dared to dream of. As his lips met mine, a cascade of emotions flooded through me, each one more intense and terrifying than the last. His kiss was a revelation, soft yet insistent, and it awakened a longing I had suppressed for too long.As we kissed, my hand found its way to his shoulder, a gesture of both support and need. My heart raced, echoing his, a tumultuous rhythm that seemed to say, this is right, this is where you belong. I had feared so many things at that moment—the rejection, the confusion, possibly the end of something precious. But as he drew me closer, my fears dissipated, replaced by a courage I didn't know I possessed.Leaning into him, into the kiss, was like accepting a part of myself I had been afraid to acknowledge. It felt like a gentle yet profound awakening to something new, something inevitably beautiful. It was as if all the pieces of my tumultuous life were aligning, bringing me to this point of unexpected yet perfect clarity.The thought flitted through my mind as we slowly, reluctantly, began to part—a lull in the storm of emotions that had engulfed us.Our noses touched lightly as we pulled away, his hands still framing my face with a tenderness that made my heart swell. The room was silent except for our breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened. Then, as I opened my eyes to look at him, a sudden realization struck me—the car! I had forgotten the responsibility of waiting outside in all the chaos of our emotions and the turmoil of family dramas."The car!" I exclaimed, the words tumbling out in a rush. The shift from our intimate moment to the practical concern might have seemed abrupt, but it grounded us, tethering our newfound connection to the realities we still had to face. As I looked into his eyes, still close enough to feel his breath, I saw not just the boy from the wrong side of town but someone who had seen me at my most vulnerable and still stepped forward, someone who shared not just my fears, but now my hopes too.The shift from our intimate moment to a sudden surge of urgency was jarring but not unexpected—not with everything on the line. As he looked at me with a mix of amusement and disbelief, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for disrupting the rare peace we had found in each other's arms. His hand fell from my face as I moved away, caught up in the implications of what Polly had mentioned."No! Polly talked about a car Jason had stashed for them down Route 40 near some sign??" I tried to explain, my words tumbling out hastily as I paced towards the window, glancing outside as if I could see the solution waiting for us in the darkness. The reality of Jason's mysterious car could be a breakthrough, a piece of the puzzle that had eluded us, potentially vindicating Polly or plunging us deeper into the labyrinth of the town’s secrets."If we can find it, we can confirm Polly’s story." I turned back to him, my determination setting in. My investigative drive continuously surged to the forefront in times like this, overpowering even the most personal moments. I could see the realization settling in his eyes; he knew this was how it had to be, at least for now."One way or another," he echoed, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else—perhaps disappointment. I knew this wasn't what he wanted—to be pulled back into another mystery just when we'd found a moment's respite in each other's company.I can’t say I wasn’t bothered that this took precedence over our moment, but this was Betty. That thought echoed in my mind, reminding me painfully of the balancing act I was constantly engaged in—between the person I wanted to be for him and the responsibilities that seemed to claim me time and again.As I eyed him with an empowering and burdensome resolve, I understood the conflict within him. It was a reflection of my own. Here he was, standing in my room, a witness to the chaos that was my life, choosing to stay when it would have been easier to step back. His willingness to dive into the depths with me, to face whatever horrors or truths we might uncover together, only deepened the affection I felt for him, tangled as it was with the complexities of our lives.“This is important,” I finally said, meeting his eyes. “Not just for Polly, but for all of us.” I reached out, touching his arm gently, a silent plea for understanding. “Thank you for being here, for being part of this, even when it’s messy.”When I spoke his nickname, the urgency in my voice softened a stark contrast to the enthusiasm of our earlier conversation. "I need to know, Juggie." The word lingered between us, familiar yet weighted with a new significance. His nickname, a term of endearment that only I used, seemed to draw a line around us, enclosing us in our own little world amidst the chaos.His eyes met mine, searching for affirmation. I could see the slight hesitation, the readiness to jump into whatever mess we were about to uncover, tempered by a concern for what it might do to us. The sweetness in my voice wasn't just for reassurance—it was a reminder of the bond we shared that went beyond Riverdale's mysteries and darkness.As he stammered out his agreement, "Then let’s go," it was more than just a commitment to follow Polly's clue—it was a pledge to stick by each other, no matter what we found.My heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and dread. The investigation was a path fraught with unknowns, but having him by my side made it bearable, even empowering. The way he said, "Let’s go," wasn’t just about setting out to find a car; it was about moving forward together, tackling whatever challenges lay ahead with a united front.As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. His presence was a constant in my life, a steady force amid the ever-changing tides. The nickname 'Juggie' was a small thing, but it symbolized so much more—it was about intimacy, trust, and a shared history that only we understood."I’m glad you’re here," I said quietly as we gathered our things, my hand brushing his arm lightly. "Really, I am." The smile he gave me then was all the reassurance I needed. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slowToo swift arrives as tardy as too slow

you can always in roleplays torture, kill, kidnap, ruin Felix in anyway you want to. So don't hold back on the torture or anything else you want to do with him

Hey there! I'm Celia Rae Foot. It's good to makeyour aquaintence. I'm a really nice gal from SugarDitch Mississippi, and moved to Jackson when I gotmarried. Anyway, I'm not as bad as Hilly Hollbrooksays. Just thought I'd come down to say hey! Anddon't worry this pie is just a regular apple pie if ya'dlike a slice. My maid is a great cook! Hope to hearfrom ya soon. 

Somehow, someway Rowena had found herself as the only person in Hartsville. Everyone else had vanished. Just poof, and gone. Rowena was going to have a lot of fun with this. Rowena walked through town in a very small bikini, one that definitely shouldn’t have been on her body. She was chugging from a bottle of bourbon, and nobody could say a damn thing. She played rock music from her phone obnoxiously loud before heading into Buck Wild. She got up on the platform and began dancing seductively to an empty room. This was something her brothers would never allow if they were around. But they weren’t so they couldn’t do a damn thing. After a while she went behind the bar and made different cocktails for herself, adding extra alcohol simply because she could. There was no sticking to measures here. She went into the office and changed the background of the computer to some ridiculous looking dog in a hat. She then went to her brothers placed and moved everything around, so he would be extremely confused when he got back. She then did the same to Rebecca’s place. Just a little harmless fun. 

If you have read the rules and signed them accordingly, then please fill out the audition for and send it back the completed for to us via messages, if you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us via message and the staff will get back to you when they are available.   OOC Questions: How long have you been roleplaying in general? Have you ever been a part of the twilight verse before? Rate your activity level between 1 - 10 (10 being the highest) this does not affect our audition in any way: For you What is the most important part of being in an RPG?: Have you seen the all the movies? :Have you read all the books?:Are you in any RPG's at the moment, if so which ones?: IC Questions ​​​​​Name of Character: Playby: Age of Character: Species: Please give a brief explanation of your character, in your own words:Please provide a sample with a minium of 3 well written paragraphs, this must be in the character you are auditioning for unless otherwise stated. 

The Last Person In Hartsville Bowie woke up early like she always did and went for a run with her dog Baxter. Hardly anyone was ever around when she went for a run. People enjoyed their sleep far too much to be up before the sun. She normally ran into a couple of people though, early rising workers starting their day. Only today she hadn’t seen them. She just assumed they were sick. After her run she returned home and showered and got herself ready. She made a coffee and some breakfast and turned on the news channel but she was met with a black screen. Bowie was extremely confused. The weather girl was normally doing the local weather somewhere in Hartsville, but not today. Bowie figured there must be a problem with the channel and shrugged it off and went to work. As she was driving through town it was very quiet, eerily quiet. There was nobody. “How is this possible?” She asked herself. Getting out of her car she tried different establishments but everything was locked and not a single person was inside. It was the same with the cafe. Bowie tried calling her friends but nothing. She went to the hospital and nobody was there. Now that wasn’t possible. Returning home she sat at the table with a glass of bourbon, thinking over everything. None of this could be real. What if it was some stupid joke... it wasn’t April 1st... but it still could be. “Ah screw it” Bowie said to herself. Bowie removed her clothes and walked back into town. The supermarket was still open so she walked through the supermarket and did her shopping. Drinking from the carton and eating things as she went around. She didn’t pay, bagged everything up and went on her way. Next up was skinny dipping in the lake, before a stroll through the park. 

  We at Illicit affairs are a Twilight based rpg, we would like to see the verse thrive once more, we not only accept non canon characters, but we also accept genederbent characters from Twilight reimagined . Please read the rules before auditioning.   ACTIVITY: We do expect for you to be active, as much as possible, as we would like to see this rpg thrive and help us in our quest to bring back the twilight verse to its former glory. We have a few things we would like for you to do for the rpg. We aren't going to force anyone to do anything, but 1x1s are on your time, we will have monthly drabbles and group storylines for you to do on here and on discord. Be sure to do one post of each and at the end of the month there will be a check. Please keep in mind we are a rpg so we want to be active. We understand real life is important, just let us know! DRAMA: We all know this rule, please no drama in the rpg, chat etc, we will remove you, before that, we'd like to talk first to get to the bottom of things. If you start any kind of drama you'll be given a warning. Do not bully people or judge people by who they love or race, we do not talk about politics etc...if you have a problem with someone or something? Talk to us let us know! Don't be afraid to reach out. ACCOUNTS: We'd love to see our rpg grow and expand also we'd like for people to add on accounts in the near future! If you would like to have more than one account? You'll have to meet your activity first! The first one for second accounts you'll at least need storylines and a Drabble, third account storylines drabble and group storylines and so on for third accounts. You'll need to make sure that you keep up with everything you owe have a owes list done etc...please make sure that the stuff will be done before the checks, if not, you can always do your previous owes from the last month for the new month if you haven't done it. You can have an account for only just this rpg because we want to avoid drama from other rpgs. FACE CLAIM: When it comes to major characters we at illicit affairs would prefer if you used the actor/actress cast in the movies but we will also alllow you to use a secondary face claim if you so wish to do some, when it comes to the more minor roles/ characters we don't mind if you use a completely different face claim, and not stick to the actor/actress of they appear in the movies.GROUP STORYLINES: We will be doing group storylines for the rpg there will be a specific storyline for here and we will have discord and writing link for it as well! We will be doing different kind of mini storylines both au and canon to the books and movies, we will have a lot of fun ideas for everyone...remember you can do it on your own time, just let us know if you want to be skipped or not join at all. And if you have a group storyline idea of your own let the stuff know before hand please. HIATUS: Please let us know you're going on hiatus don't just leave the rpg or abandon the pages you have in here, we will try to contact you if you haven't been back, if you don't answer, we will have to reopen your account, you are more than welcome to come back if you do come back. Please keep in mind rl comes first we understand completely! Do not hesitate to take a step back mental health is more important too! Just let us know or update we will understand! AUDITIONING: Please make sure to audition with the muse you started with, we don't want people changing all the time, we want others to get a chance at the roles, if you ask to change early, you won't be able to do it unless you've done your activities for the month. If you wish to change? Let us know, and we will discuss. Please do not change with out talking first. If you audition, please make sure you read the rules and sign them. If you audition and don't get accepted please respectfully accept that you been denied, but you're allowed to reaudition if you want to, if you audition as well, please make sure it's for here and not another rpg. ORIGINAL CHARACTERS: We accept original characters, but we advice you to use someone different. It depends on who is using cannon faces, but we want to make sure no one gets upset for you using them. We understand shows have the same faces, also please make sure your role fits with in the multi verses we have, we don't want to make people feel left out, also make sure to do your own bio etc...we don't want people copying off each other. Please also if you're doing an oc role, be sure to ask if it's okay to for siblings or family members of cannon or minor roles. MULTIPLE CHARACTERS:  You are allowed more than one character within the rpg, but you must be active for least a month before asking to bring in another character, if you are already roleplaying a major role we ask that you consider roleplaying a minor role or possibly creating your own character if you prefer.,ie: For you are roleplaying Bella maybe you might consider take on the role of Kate or Victoria? DISCORD: We will be using discord for most of the events and rp, but we are also going to do site stuff too, but if you want more participation, discord is the way to go, we will be doing a lot of fun things and you can chat and hang out with your friends and write there too as well. We will do a lot of fun things and it will keep the interest going. REQUIERMENTS: We are not asking for a lot, just try to be active and participating in rpg things, you don't have to rush or do anything right away, but on your own time. At least 1x1 are mandatory, that can be in the form of either a starter or a reply, Weekly & monthly prompts, Drabbles, group storylines are not mandatory. Once you have read the rules and are ready to audition please, leave a gif in the comments of the person you are auditioning for or if you are on your phone leave a comment of the name of the character you are auditioning for along with your favourite quote from the saga . 

Suguru Getou / Jjk Two Roads MM Post from @shakeitoff Tokyo was always beautiful this time of year. The grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu High were full of flowering buds and innocent animals with the desperate curiosity to know what these children were learning. Granted Suguru Getou wasn't exactly a child but he wasn't a fully recognized sorcerer as of yet. He stood by himself next to the bright yellow petals of the kiku that he gently caressed with his extended digits. Most outside of Japan associate cherry blossoms with their country. The whole thing amused Getou to a rather large degree. Getou was a young man of considerable height. He was dressed neatly in his school uniform with a fresh crispness about it. The lengthy sable strands of his hair spilled down his shoulders and along his spine. He was one of two leading sorcerers at the school at this time. There was a team of four at the time but everyone knew that it was between him and his best friend Satoru Gojo. Getou and his collection of cursed spirits were far superior to the general sorcerer. Even the other two that were often in his and Gojo's company couldn't hope to be on their level any time soon. Yet Getou fell short.Gojo often wore sunglasses to hide his eyes and with good reason. His eyes were the color of heaven itself. It was the Six Eyes that came along ever so often in his sorcerer clan. This meant that this arrogant little prick was the most powerful sorcerer in a generation. Getou could never hope to be on his level but he was damn close. If not for Gojo he would have been the absolute best. Instead he had to play second string to Satoru Gojo. Where was the equity in that? The answer was simple. There was none. Oh there was nothing wrong with playing second to Gojo. Getou and Gojo got along famously. They were even best friends. Although considering how well the two knew each other, Getou and Gojo were like brothers. They were inseparable. It was actually why he was waiting here for his brother. The obnoxious little warthog with the most beautiful eyes in all of Japan was late. Getou was going to have to save his ass again. A stitch of stress passed behind Getou's left eye letting it give a slight twitch. Gojo was going to have to learn to stand on his own soon. Getou's path was turning in a different direction. He could already see it just beyond the proverbial next bend. It was still soon enough that maybe he didn't have to walk it alone.Getou brought the brilliant yellow petals closer to his nose so he could inhale the scent. He had been hidden away from nearly everyone as the most stygian thoughts began to overtake his mind. Sorcerers were dying for a world that did not know they existed. Not only were the youth or the sorcerers in training dying, established sorcerers were wiped out on a daily basis. The ignorant monkeys who were not sorcerers had no clue of the world of cursed energy and curses in general. They were unseen and out of mind. Yet the duty of the Jujutsu Sorcerer was to protect them with their life if necessary. The majority of Sorcerers were in Japan. A handful existed beyond their country. It was Getou's decision that he would find them all no matter how long it took. The minutes he spent waiting for Gojo were beginning to stretch to hours. The tension and anxiety of this decision was beginning to exact a toll on him. He pulled the kiku blossom and left the petals torn to bits on the ground before him. Gojo was everything to him. It was becoming painfully obvious he was going to have to walk away from his brother. The continued heightened thoughts that had taken root in Getou's mind were fervently in place. His decision had been made. Their paths were about to diverge.All Getou could do now was mourn the glory that could have been with them both side by side. He was going to have a new family now and Gojo would not be a part of it. Getou ceased his waiting and turned in the direction of a path away from the school and away from Gojo. The wind began to whip around as Suguru Getou left the campus as a student. The once beautiful cloudy sky had parted and the rain began to fall.I shall be telling this with a sighSomewhere ages and ages hence:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference.  credit: james kriet

  •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅FINALLY FREE | DRABBLE # 2!Trigger Warnings: Torture, Blood.Word Count: 364•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅My father must have told my cousin about the beatings and the way he handled me. Upon our marriage, my cousin came into the shack and beat me, until I bled. Then he ordered me to clean up and get dressed. I obeyed and with my mother's help I was dressed - for my wedding. A wedding I had no say in, no right to speak out against it, and even if I did, my father would just force it. Beating me afterwards for daring to defy his command. I remained silent except for the speaking parts in the ceremony. I was married to my cousin. He was now the heir to the throne; I was to be his Queen-Consort. I would only act as Queen, when he wasn't around. Other than that? I was nothing, but a pretty face next to the King. Or rather Future King. I had moved in with my 'Husband' and was now to serve him. I should have been the Queen and he, My Consort, but it wasn't to be so. I was stuck once more in the role of being a servant. Though I was not just a mere servant no more, but a Queen, I still had to obey my husband and my father.A few weeks after my 'marriage', my father disappeared and my 'husband' was crowned king. A few days after that, my king/husband sold me to another vampire Lord, and made me marry him. I was stripped of my title and forced back to being nothing more than a servant. A month or so later, my 'husband' disappeared, and I was finally free. I waited and asked around for him - acting like the concerned wife, everyone expected me to be. It appeared after a few weeks of no news that my 'husband' was gone, dead even. I was finally free, 2000 + years of suffering, it  had finally ended. I ended up gathering what I could put in a bag, and left the house for a ship.I stowed away on it, months later, I stepped on the docks of New Orleans, Louisiana, now in the year of 2024, and my new life began.•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅   template credit.

  •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅FATHER'S NIGHTLY RITUAL | DRABBLE # 1!Trigger Warnings: Torture, Blood.Word Count: 633•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅I hurried down the dimly lit corridor. The King, my father, wanted to see me. Why? I asked myself as I climbed down the stairs in a corridor and rounded it to his chambers. I stopped at the door and raised my hand to knock. A sudden noise of a cape swooshing, behind me and the bottom of a spear hitting the stone floor, told me that a guard was right behind me.  I sighed heavily inward, hoping that I wouldn't be in trouble or get hit, for being at the door of the king's chambers. I slowly turned around and faced the Guards. "The King wished for my appearance." I told them with a bow to them. I moved away from the door and behind them, as they advanced on the door, and knocked themselves. A dark and deep voice sounded inside. "Let her in." The guards opened the door, and I gathered up my tattered clothes, and made my way into my father's room. "You wish to see me, Your Majesty." I whispered as I bowed to my father. "I did." He said with a sharp tone, as he sighed and walked up to me. A rough and hard hand, reached under my chin and lifted my face forcing me to face him. I looked down, not daring to look at him. I wanted to but knew that I was never to look at my King without his permission. I stayed looking down as he told me that I was to wed one of my cousins and that it should be an honor that he was allowing me to remain in the royal family, even though I was a bastard. I said nothing as he told me this. He let my head go and I tilted it downward, in a bow. A sudden, snapping sound and then a loud CRACK, then the sting of pain ran up my back as my father whipped me. It was his daily ritual every night. Taunt me and then torture me, to remind me that I was nothing, a bitch that served her father needs and wants when he wanted it. I bit my lower lip as the whip continued to hit my back. I knelt on the ground on my left knee, my head bowed in surrender, as he continued to beat me. A few minutes more, I felt the blood. Blood from the cracked skin, the sharp glass that had dug into my skin and began to rip it open. I would have cried out in pain, but I was numbed to it, by now. The many nights since I was 10 years old, was ended with beating until I bleed. I had learned to numb myself to it, to distance myself from the pain. One more hard CRACK and the beatings stopped. My Father poured water on it, I dug my teeth into my lower lip, drawing blood at the pain. My body shook from the pain, and then ...Knock, Knock...."Saved by the door!" My father whispered as he grabbed me and lifted me up. Forcing me to stand, he stripped off all my clothes and forced me to leave the room, butt naked. I opened the door to see my cousin on the other side. As he saw me, he smirked and I bowed, painfully at him as he entered passing me to speak with my father. At a snap of my father's fingers, I quickly left his chambers and hurried through the corridor - at a run, until I came to the shack that my mother and I shared, outside the castle. I ignored the stares of the villagers and guards, simply ran into my home and collapsed into the arms of my mother and sobbed until I fell asleep. •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅   template credit.

where the— neon lives Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris luctus pulvinar augue accumsan pretium. Cras imperdiet nulla sit amet leo sagittis, vel varius est vestibulum. Nam sodales ante at odio semper fermentum. Phasellus suscipit nec ex efficitur ullamcorper. Vestibulum at ultricies quam. Nulla in neque scelerisque, facilisis arcu vitae, vestibulum erat. Sed vitae dolor urna. Integer commodo nunc tempus ligula cursus ultricies. Sed fringilla sem et erat aliquet consectetur. Donec quis metus neque. Aliquam in porttitor libero, ut tristique nisi. Ut mauris risus, dapibus eu mauris sed, maximus vehicula erat. Ut finibus vel purus et venenatis. Nam metus mauris, facilisis in purus ac, elementum tincidunt ipsum. Phasellus et congue lorem. Curabitur tempor eget nibh sed luctus. Aenean sed egestas lorem. Fusce ornare faucibus elit eget blandit. Integer vel nibh vel augue egestas scelerisque. Nullam metus quam, elementum in ligula eu, tincidunt venenatis orci. Vivamus dignissim justo quis eros suscipit imperdiet. Phasellus id lobortis tortor. Fusce ullamcorper venenatis vehicula. Etiam ac euismod justo. Quisque condimentum nibh quis bibendum lacinia. Duis condimentum augue at vestibulum laoreet. Praesent risus mi, vulputate sit amet luctus vel, commodo id lacus. Phasellus turpis ante, elementum in lectus nec, tincidunt faucibus dolor. Vestibulum ac erat vel neque sagittis mollis ac et odio. put a quote here or something

But cruelty for no other reason than to be cruel? I don’t like it. I’m forever collecting strays…Bruce and I have that in common, I guess. In a way, we collected each other.Once again, Selina Kyle had unknowingly channeled the ghosts of Alfred’s lived experiences. He would have preferred to disregard further proof of how he’d misjudged her capacity for self-reflection, but collecting strays was indeed an accurate summation of young Bruce Wayne’s innate compassion. The deep well of the boy’s natural empathy, from what his legal guardian had observed throughout the first decade of Bruce’s life, surpassed even the perceived altruism of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Witnessing their murders had only intensified Bruce’s burning desire to help others, a trait Alfred did admire about his charge.That same trait could also be a source of contention between the billionaire orphan and his butler. Despite the ugliness of humanity exposed to him at an early age, the resilient Bruce Wayne still had much to learn about the world, and about trust. Serving as Bruce’s conscience through it all, Alfred Pennyworth frequently found himself questioning the lad’s reckless, impulsive decisions and lack of proper judgment.But Alfred himself had been a stray once. Thomas Wayne collected him, too.Collecting strays.She described that perfectly.Admitting such truth to Selina Kyle was as much off the table for Alfred as envisioning a time when the streetwise pickpocket and butler would come to view one another as actual friends. Showing a little kindness in her young life was one thing; she also needed structure, discipline and a strong nudge toward redemption. Alfred certainly hadn’t signed up to raise two special youngsters, after decades of purposely avoiding parenthood like the plague. Selina was not his responsibility. He’d do well to ignore the pangs of paternal instinct she awakened within him.Constantly checking his trousers and waistcoat for any missing valuables after being in her company wasn’t something he particularly relished, either. Alfred had done that very thing as they’d stepped out of the precinct, a sympathetic nod given to Jim Gordon once Alfred’s hands swept over his own pockets.He didn’t care at all for the subtle revelation that Salina was spying on Bruce’s interactions at school. If Alfred asked her to, that would, of course, be entirely different. Without his or Bruce’s prior knowledge, however, Alfred considered the invasion of privacy to be gross overstepping and a violation of personal boundaries.“Your interest in Master Bruce’s friendships and other matters that do not actually concern you is duly noted, Miss Kyle,” Alfred snapped, not bothering to repeat the name of Mayor Galavan’s niece in his refined Cockney that was, unbeknownst to Selina, far from posh. He couldn’t quite shake the nagging suspicion that something wasn’t quite right about Silver McCloud, the pretty blonde rich girl who in recent days rendered Bruce starry-eyed and distracted. Reflecting upon it months later, Alfred would curse himself for somehow allowing Galavan’s nefarious plan for Bruce Wayne and all of Gotham to fly under his radar.“As is your penchant for dropping from walls or breaking and entering as a means of avoiding proper interactions with other people.”Not responding to the reprimand, Selina instead steered the conversation back to his offer of breakfast. Suddenly she was cozying up to him with the sweetest of smiles and an arm linked around the sleeve of his suit jacket. The girl must have been starving, shedding all the brass and swagger to accept the offer of a meal in Alfred Pennyworth’s kitchen. She’d insulted his culinary gifts in the past as being too posh for her simpler taste, but now?Your cooking ain’t so bad, Jeeves. You can teach me how to make one of those Key-she things.“Right, then.” Blinking down at the new-and-improved-got-manners-for-a-fleeting-moment Selina Kyle hanging on his arm, Alfred made a mental note to recheck his pockets as he escorted her to the Rolls-Royce parked outside the GCPD. “If I can manage to get some proper food down at least one of you today, I shall take that as a win.”When they reached the car, Alfred dutifully tended to the opening of her door and made certain she was properly ensconced in the passenger seat before slipping behind the wheel. The luxury coupe, with its gunmetal exterior, four bucket seats with massage options for the front and exceptional air suspension for a smoother ride, was the sort of travel to which Alfred Pennyworth had become accustomed during his employment at Wayne Manor. But his childhood had more closely resembled Selina’s than Bruce’s in terms of transportation and finances.At least I wasn’t an orphan. But he might as well have been, if not for his dear old mum making up for all that his old man lacked.Expertly navigating the rolls through the bustling maze of downtown Gotham, Alfred pointedly avoided switching on the stereo. While he enjoyed making use of the car’s eighteen speakers for streaming his BBC programs or the occasional classical and classic rock stations, he didn’t fancy an argument with Selina over musical tastes while driving. The purr of the engine served as the soundtrack for their travels, an awkward silence occasionally interrupted by a growled oh bloody hell whenever some inattentive driver failed to use turn signals or ran a red light.Keeping to the speed limit, taking care to keep them both safe on the road, the butler’s temper threatened to show itself more than once with the idiots in traffic, indicating he could switch into another gear just as easily as the rolls should the need present itself.All the while, Alfred’s mind kept returning to Selina’s appearance, the circles under her eyes, the dismissive comments about her living conditions. He remembered viewing Reggie’s broken body after Selina pushed the deadly old turncoat out of a window to his death. He thought of Martha Wayne and her commitment to improving the lives of young girls at the Wayward House. Selina never had the fortune of meeting Bruce’s late mother, hearing only of Martha’s kindnesses later from the other girls. The memory of Selina’s description of those stories brought a deep frown to Alfred’s brow.The girl was clearly quite clever, having survived the violent streets of Gotham City mostly on her own. Alfred knew from their personal interactions that she possessed a keen intelligence. And in the past two days, he discovered she observed more about human behavior on a deeper level than he ever gave her credit for. Why didn’t her path cross with a certain woman he knew could have made a difference? Why hadn’t she been at the Wayward House where it was safe, where her friends were, friends who later told her all about Martha Wayne’s positive impact on their young lives?Where had Selina Kyle been while Bruce’s mother lived, instead of cowering in that dark alley seconds before Martha’s life ended at the side of her husband?Oh, bloody hell.“Is there no shelter you might get to, someplace safer than a box in the Narrows?” Keeping his attention on the road, Alfred allowed a quick glance at Selina’s profile beside him. That topic of conversation could be problematic with a flight risk like Selina Kyle. The coupe was accelerating toward the Kane Bridge, but how was he to know the unpredictable little feline aficionado wouldn’t jump out at forty just to avoid answering a question? The threat of her flight still wasn’t enough to keep Alfred from avoid that particular discussion. It was, in his mind at least, a valid subject under the circumstances.“Surely there are other options preferable to your current living situation, Miss Kyle. I believe we may still have Mrs. Wayne’s old rolodex. I could make some calls after lunch, see about getting you someplace safer tonight, ey?”Alfred knew a fine line existed between accepting a rare, unsolicited offer of help and guarding one’s pride. She could accept or refuse, that much was beyond Alfred’s control. Neither was under any obligation to the other. Yet still he defied logic and his own sanity and sense by addressing the matter aloud.I must be mad. Mad as a bloody hatter. She’s trouble this one. But she’s also just a child.He could almost feel Martha’s smile.Almost.  created by creativian